Bananaphone
by AbRaCaDaBrA
Summary: Everyone at Hogwarts has been mysteriously killed. And it's all Raffi's fault.


The carnage was absolute and complete. No one moved in the castle except for the last few alive, who were gibbering and twitching rhythmically before bleeding from the head and collapsing. Hundreds of dead students filled the corridors, smiling faintly because they were so happy to be done with the torment that lead to their demise. The ghosts and the portraits were in an uproar, moving all across the country, trying to figure out the deadly epidemic that had wiped out the entire population of Hogwarts. One painting of Mallory Michaels, a thirteenth-century witch, was particularly full, as she had looked down upon a few Gryffindor students whom the disease seemed to have started with. Phineas Nigellus shoved his way in front of the other inhabitants, Sir Cardogan shouting in protest before falling backwards into a crowd of sinister-looking monks.

"See those books?" Mallory pointed out to Phineas. "Underneath the bodies?"

"Yes, I see," he said, peering into the Common Room. "What does that scrap of parchment on top of the long essay say?"

**Five Hours Earlier**

Hermione was lying in a pool of her own blood. Harry and Ron were crashing out beside her, and all throughout the Common Room Gryffindors were banging their heads against the tapestries, pacing in circles muttering to themselves, or thrashing on the floor with pillows over their ears. The song was everywhere now, an unstoppable and highly contagious virus with no cure. McGonagall had entered the Common Room bellowing about nonsense, but after she had taken Colin by the shoulder to demand explanation she had joined the group mumbling in the corner. Dumbledore himself was looking in at the insanity in the Common Room, and Neville lurched forward to beg help of the Headmaster. He grabbed Dumbledore's wrist and shouted over the din in his head, "HELP US, SIR!" A thin trickle of drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth, and behind him Ron and Harry collapsed, spewing blood from their mouths. 

Dumbledore backed away and out of the Common Room, running to the Faculty Lounge. The professors needed to be warned! The school needed to be on alert!

But first, who was that playing that song in the background?

**Six Hours Earlier**

"Harry, Ron," Hermione sobbed, clinging on to the front of their robes in support. "Help me! I've gone stark raving mad!" 

Harry and Ron looked at each other and back at Hermione, who was looking rather wobbly and quite red-faced. "What do you mean?" asked Ron, helping her to her feet.

"I – I – I –," she stammered, tears pouring down her face, "I – can't – get – them – to – SHUT – UP!"

"Who, Hermione?" Harry sat her down on the steps outside Hogwarts.

"The song...the song...," she whispered shakily, rocking back and forth.

Harry and Ron shared a blank look, and Harry patted her on the shoulder carefully.

Ron blinked rapidly. There was something suddenly very different, but so subtly changed he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. Then, he realized. Someone, somewhere, was playing a song. A rather stupid song, but not stupid enough that he could tune it out. He stood up, trying to figure out from where it was coming. Harry stood up beside him, and a shared expression of bewilderment hinted that they were hearing the same thing.

Hermione kept rocking between them, one eye slightly bulging, to a beat Harry and Ron could now hear.

**Seven Hours Earlier**

Hermione was trying to think of a really good concluding sentence for her essay on hexes, but the music in the background was driving her slightly mad. She knew she didn't have many levies on the action in the Common Room, but to get her work done she would have to either send the people with the phonograph up to their dorm or retreat herself. With the pile of books and writing supplies all over her table at her little corner, she knew she couldn't re-locate. Finally, she stood up, and looked around madly for whoever was playing the stupid song. 

"All right, whoever's playing that music, turn it off or go upstairs. Some of us are trying to do work."

A crowd of two dozen Gryffindors continued chatting merrily, and only a few paid Hermione any attention. She didn't see the phonograph anywhere, but it seemed the song was getting louder. Where were Ron and Harry now? They had told her they were going to get another book from the library, but that was half an hour ago, and she had a sneaking suspicion they were down at the lake having fun and blowing off their essays.

"I mean it mates, shut off that blooming song!" she called louder.

This time, about half of the people heard her, but none of them seemed to know what she was talking about. The volume went up again, and Hermione was afraid she was really going mad.

"What are you going on about?" asked Parvati, who was merrily working on her Tarot deck with Lavender. Those two could merrily work on their Divination homework front row at a Weird Sisters concert.

"That song!" shouted Hermione, getting angry. "If this is supposed to be a joke, it isn't very funny at all!"

"Hermione, there's nothing playing," said Lavender. "I think you need to take a lie down or something."

"What in blazes is the bloody song!?" Hermione was going red in the face from confusion and anger. The song was getting even louder and it almost sounded like words now. "KNOCK IT OFF!" she shouted.

"There's nothing playing!" Parvati shot back. "Come off it, Hermione!"

"Ooh, you sodding gits!" wailed Hermione, running from the Common Room.

**Eight Hours Earlier**

Hermione finished the last sentence in her introductory paragraph and turned the page in the dusty book. A small slip of yellowed parchment fell out and into Hermione's lap. 

"What's that?" asked Ron, who had yet to start his essay.

"I dunno," Hermione replied, picking it up and looking at it closely in the sunlight from the window. "It looks like there's something written on it, but it's so faded I can't make it out."

"Let me see," said Harry, who put down his quill and examined the fragment. There was a short passage written in a spidery handwriting. Squinting, he finally made out the cryptic phrase.

"What's it say?" Ron was trying to look over his shoulder.

"It says..._'ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ...Bananaphone'_."


End file.
